This is where I share the adventures of my hero and the world’s greatest kid detective, Annabelle Adams, chapter by chapter.

Ninja was waiting outside of Em’s office. His left eyebrow was wiggling.

“Would you like to learn some more moves before you go?”

Annabelle smiled so hard she almost shed a tear. “More than anything in the world.”

Annabelle still had a week before she was supposed to be home from summer camp, so she trained with Ninja. By the end of the second day, they had run out of moves, so Floyd taught her how to fly a helicopter. Then Eleanor taught her how to hotwire a motorcycle. And make the perfect crème brule. And so on.

Eventually the week ended, and it was time to head home. Annabelle, Eleanor, Floyd, Ninja gathered around a card table with a few balloons and some festive paper plates. Franz was sniffing everything. Eleanor was holding the kitten.

“We’ve decided to name him Rhonda,” said Floyd.

“Perfect,” said Annabelle. She wanted to ask if she could bring Rhonda home with her, but but it was clear that Eleanor had fallen in love.

“Ninja baked you a cake,” said Floyd.

“Thanks, Ninja,” said Annabelle, taking a bite.

The cake tasted worse than terrible, but Annabelle didn’t say so.

After the party, the friends said goodbye and Ninja drove Annabelle on an off-road motorcycle up a perilous slope to a desolate peak, from which she piloted a hang glider to a secret bunker, where she was hidden in the back of a truck filled with soybeans and driven across several hostile borders before eventually being placed on an airplane that transformed into a helicopter that landed in the quiet countryside before transforming into a sensible, mid-sized sedan, that drove her into town and onto Pleasant street.

Eventually, the car pulled into Annabelle’s driveway.

“Thanks,” said Annabelle to the driver. “I assume your name is Driver?”

“Nope. I’m Steve.”

“Weird.”

“Not really.”

Annabelle got out of the car. She was about to say thanks, but Steve put on his sunglasses and said with great seriousness, “I was not here. You did not see me. You’ll never see me again.” And then he drove away.

“We’ll see about that,” said Annabelle.

Annabelle looked at her watch. It was mid afternoon. Her parents wouldn’t be home for several hours. But Ellen would be curled in the window seat, catching the sun.

Annabelle slid her key into the lock. She turned the knob. She opened the door.

Nothing inside looked the slightest bit torn or tossed or toppled or even sort of out of place.

“That’s my sensible girl,” said Annabelle. Even as every other cat in the world went on rampage, Ellen had kept her cool.

Annabelle scooped Ellen around her shapeless waist and settled into an armchair.

“I have so much to tell you,” she said. “I hardly know where to begin.”

Ellen slowly raised her head and looked at Annabelle as if to say, “I’ll listen if you want but only if you shower me with reassuring scratches as you do.”

Annabelle thought about Em and Floyd and Ninja and wondered what they were up to. She opened her backpack and noticed that the cat control device was still inside. Did it still work? Would she be able to make Ellen dance?

Ellen looked up at Annabelle with a skeptical glance as if to say, “You can turn that dial if you feel you must, but I am already perfect just as I am.”

“I agree entirely,” said Annabelle, sliding the device back into the bag, and pushing the bag under the chair with her foot. She was home again. The world was not in peril. For now.

Annabelle took off her hair clip and turned it over. As far as anyone else could tell, it looked just like any other hair clip. But she knew that it was anything but ordinary.

“Second, sometimes it’s better to take no action than the wrong one. Did things turn out ok in the end?”

“Yes.”

“Then you have nothing to apologize for. This was your first mission after all.”

Annabelle thought about that, and for the very frist time, successfully resisted her usual temptation to be as hard on herself as possible.

“As for Fungo,” said Em, “don’t feel bad for a second. We never catch him. We’ve thwarted him at least a dozen times now, and he always escapes. Every time. It’s uncanny.”

“Every time?”

“Its like someone doesn’t want him to stay caught.”

Annabelle felt better, but just a little.

Em stood up and smoothed her stylish jacket and looked Annabelle in the eye.

“Well, Annabelle. You’ve done it. You have succeeded in the impossible.”

“Stopping Fungo and destroying The Machine?”

“No,” said Em. “Although I am glad and grateful, the fact that you accomplished these things was merely unlikely. The truly impossible thing you did was give me back my hope.”

“But how did I do that?”

“By escaping from Minos. By saving Eleanor. By fooling Long Arm. By climbing down the right gullet. By defeating Fungo and his 100 foolishly designed robots. By being you. By always finding a way.”

Annabelle wanted to point out that she ways always herself, but it didn’t look like Em was finished.

“I suddenly believe that the world can be saved.”

“That’s wonderful.”

“It really is.”

“And what have you learned?” asked Em, suddenly quite serious.

Annabelle thought about that. She had done and seen so much. Before she could think of anything specific to say, Em continued.

“Remember how I told you that you’d eventually know everything?”

Annabelle did remember. It had been a compelling claim. “Yes.”

“Well do you?”

“Know everything?”

“Yes.”

“No way.”

“But do you know more than you did two weeks ago?”

“So much more.”

“Then would you say you’re moving in the right direction?”

Annabelle smiled. “I would,” she said, “I definitely would.”

Em and Annabelle smiled at one another, continuing their conversation at a much deeper level than words could possibly capture.

But Annabelle had the sense there was still something more to know, and apparently Em could tell.

“You have a sense that there’s still more to know, don’t you?”

“I’m afraid so. Sorry!”

“No, no. You have a right to know. Have a seat.”

Annabelle did.

“For as long as the world has been around, there have been people trying to take more than their share. Fungo is a great example, but so was his father, Mitchell. And for as long as there have been people like that, there has been a clandestine network of girls about your age with pure hearts and focused minds to thwart them. Rhonda was a member when she was your age. And then she grew up and became their leader and recruited me. And now I am the person in charge of finding and training and protecting the Girl Detectives.”

Annabelle gasped. All of this was even more official and important than she had thought.

“How many of us are there?”

Em frowned and paused and looked wistfully out the window.

“There are two.”

Annabelle was pretty sure she must have heard wrong.

“You did not hear wrong. I said two.”

“Eleanor and me?”

“That’s it.”

“But…why?”

“Because young women with the necessary collection of intangibles are getting harder and harder to find. We look long and hard, but everyone seems distracted with hand-held devices.”

Annabelle suddenly felt sheepish for wanting a device. But she also felt more inspired than ever to do whatever she could on behalf of the world. On the one hand, Annabelle missed Ellen and her parents and was ready to go home. But if the world’s supply of Girl Detectives was down to two, Annabelle was ready to do whatever Em needed her to do.

“I’m ready to do whatever you need me to do.”

Em looked at her with a sad smile.

“Thank you for that…but it’s time for you to go home.

“But—!”

“I will be resuming my previous duties,” Em continued, “and you will return to the business of finishing middle school and caring for the world’s most sensible cat.”

The word “school” sounded strange to Annabelle’s ears, like a part of her distant past, and the thought of going back was like the thought of un-jumping off of a diving board. She liked being Annabelle Adams, Girl Detective.

But Em had gone back to writing something, and it seemed that the conversation was over.

Annabelle walked toward the door of the dojo.

“Annabelle”

“Yes?”

“Don’t forget to take your toothbrush.”

“Of course not,” said Annabelle, once again turning to leave.

“Also,”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Also.”

“Yes?”

“I’m certain that we’ll be seeing each other again. Fungo has a way of not staying thwarted for long.”

“I’ll be ready,” said Annabelle, walking out of Em’s office and into the dojo and back into her old life again.

Ninja winced in a way that caused a dimple to appear on his left cheek.

Eleanor smiled. “Ninja says you were great. That we never could have defeated Fungo without you. That you saved us all from 100 exciting laser-hand robots. That I should cut you some slack and forgive you for making a mistake. That it’s time for us to make up.”

“Ninja is wise,” said Annabelle.

“That he is,” said Eleanor.

And the two of them hugged for even longer.

“What I can’t understand,” said Floyd, “is why that kitten stayed so calm and cute inside the box, even when the dial was turned all the way to the right.”

“I’ve been wondering that, too,” said Annabelle.

“I had a hunch,” said Eleanor, “that maybe kittens weren’t effected by The Machine. When we were in that animal shelter in Lower Barmonia, I noticed that Larf hadn’t bothered to rescue the kittens. When we were in Mustrecht, I slipped into a pet shop and confirmed it. All the adult cats were going nuts inside their cages, but the kittens were acting completely normal. And so I bought one, thinking he might come in handy.”

“He certainly did,” said Annabelle, scooping up the tiny cat that had just saved the world and giving him a loving scratch behind the ear.

“What next?” said Floyd, who still sounded a little wheezy.

“Let’s make sure this never happens again,” said Eleanor.

“Agreed,” said Annabelle. “Robots. Fungo is gone. I am now the boss of you. Your new target is The Machine.”

“Robots, you’ve already charged. You don’t need to do the countdown,” said Annabelle.

“WE KNOW,” said 99 robots, “BUT ISN’T IT EXCITING?”

Annabelle had to admit it kind of was. She joined the robots in the countdown. And then she watched as their hand lasers shot 198 powerful jets of unrelenting energy that incinerated the machine into satisfying heaps of smoldering rubble.

“Man, I want hand lasers,” said Annabelle.

“I’m working on it,” said Floyd.

“Thanks.”

“I think we’re done here,” said Eleanor.

“I still have one question,” said Annabelle. “Who was it that Long Arm was telling to go ‘down the gullet’ when you overheard him in the houseboat?”

“I have no idea,” said Eleanor.

“It was I,” said Larf, suddenly popping up from the hole in the middle of the floor, carrying an awful-looking rocket launcher type weapon and pointing it directly at Annabelle.

“Hey now!” said Annabelle.

“Not cool,” said Eleanor.

“Who’s this guy?” asked Floyd.

“I used to be a henchman,” said Larf. “But now that you guys have taken care of the boss, I’m next in line for the chair/throne thing.”

“You and what army?” asked Annabelle.

“Turn around,” said Larf.

They turned around. The 99 robots were pointing their laser hands menacingly.

“Seriously?” said Annabelle. “I thought we were finished with this part.”

“Evil is never finished,” said Larf. “It goes on and on.”

“Darn it,” said Eleanor.

“Why did Long Arm send you here?” asked Annabelle, sensing complicated family dynamics among the evil leadership.

“After Fungo fired me, Long Arm asked me to sneak into HQ and kidnap Franz. He and Fungo were having a custody dispute.”

“Custody dispute?”

“Fungo and Long Arm got Franz to keep them company while they were building The Machine. But eventually, Fungo and Long Arm grew apart. Great evil collaborations don’t last forever. There was tension. Hurt feelings. You know how it is.”

“I absolutely don’t,” said Annabelle. “But go on.”

“Long Arm wanted to take Franz and go sulk in his houseboat, but Fungo said no way and banished him to the candy shop in Lower Barmonia. The rest is history.”

“Who does Franz actually belong to?”

“He’s mine, of course,” said Larf, “But isn’t the more important question ‘Who controls the robot army?’ Long Arm designed them to obey whoever holds this evil-looking remote control.”

Larf held up a truly evil-looking remote control. Everyone gasped.

“Now, everyone please hold still so that the robots can process your locations then incinerate you so that I can take Franz and get out of here.”

“LASERS CHARGING in 10, 9, 8…”

With a flash of pent-up irritation, Ninja sprinted across the room and give Larf a series of quick punches, causing him to drop the enormous rocket launcher on his toe and then jump around pathetically.

Ninja pushed a couple of buttons on the remote control, and suddenly the 99 robots started incinerating each other with their laser hands. In less than fifteen seconds, the HQ was filled with 99 piles of smoldering robot parts.

Ninja wiggled his nose and lifted one of his eyebrows while giving the tiniest smile.

“Ninja says that sometimes all you need to solve a problem is one especially irritated ninja,” said Eleanor.

“I know,” said Annabelle. “I speak Ninja.”

“I’d really like to handcuff Larf to a railing,” said Eleanor, but I left my cuffs on Long Arm’s houseboat.”

“Here,” said Floyd. “I always carry extras.”

“Good old Floyd,” said Annabelle. “Do you have two sets?”

“Of course.”

Working together, Annabelle and Eleanor handcuffed Larf’s hands and legs to a railing.

There was a low rumbling sound as the skull’s enormous jaws started opening again.

“What now?” asked Annabelle.

“This can’t be good,” said Eleanor, as everyone braced for the worst.

But, as it turns out, it was all right. As sunlight streamed in through the open mouth, they saw a figure striding confidently toward them, surrounded by thousands of…

“Miniature porcupines!” said Annabelle.

“Where have they been all this time?” asked Eleanor.

“No one knows,” said the person walking toward them. “But here they are.”

“Rhonda!” said Annabelle. “But I didn’t even press the beacon!”

“It’s not actually a beacon,” said Rhonda. “It’s a tiny listening device that I’ve been using to follow your every move.”

“But!”

“I work for Em,” said Rhonda. “She thought that maybe you could use a little help.”

For about half a second, Annabelle was irritated that no one seemed to think her capable of running her own mission. But then she remembered that she had her friends had just saved the world and that it had taken every last one of them to do it.

“She was absolutely right.”

The miniature porcupines were milling cheerful about, gnawing on bits of incinerated robot.

“Should they be doing that?” asked Eleanor.

“Miniature porcupines are capable of digesting scrap metal,” said Floyd.

“Really?” said Annabelle.

“Really,” said Floyd. “They are an extremely strange species, not at all related to regular porcupines.”

“Weird,” said Annabelle.

“I know, right?”

“Shall we leave them to reclaim their island,” suggested Eleanor.

“And get ourselves back to the new HQ?” said Floyd.

“I thought it had been destroyed!” said Annabelle, suddenly feeling guilty all over again.

“We have an even newer one,” said Floyd, smiling. “Would you like to see it?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” said Annabelle.

When they walked outside, they were greeted with the clearest, bluest, blue sky morning any of them had ever seen.

“What a beautiful day,” said Annabelle.

“What a beautiful world,” said Rhonda.

“It really is,” said Annabelle.

“Thanks to us,” said Floyd.

“Look,” said Eleanor. It was hard to believe, but eager plants were already pushing their way up through the rocky soil.

“Amazing,” said Annabelle.

Floyd woofed. The kitten meowed.

Everyone was in a really good mood.

When they got to Rhonda’s boat, Long Arm was sitting in the back seat, handcuffed to a railing and looking put out.

“I found him drifting in his houseboat, not far from where Susie and her friends were planning on having lunch,” said Rhonda. “And he still hasn’t thanked me.”

“Franz!” said Long Arm.

Franz jumped up and licked Long Arm’s face. “Franzie boy!”

“He’ll be coming with us,” said Eleanor.

“And you’ll be coming with me,” said Rhonda, giving Long Arm a disapproving look. And then she yelled, “Hold on,” without really waiting for everyone to sit down. The boat lurched forward.

“But what about the reef with razor sharp—” said Annabelle as Rhonda pushed a button that turned the speedboat into a hovercraft.

“Whoah!” said Annabelle, as they skated gracefully across the surface of the water and across the jagged reef.

“But why didn’t you do that on our way to Fungo’s HQ?”

“The story wouldn’t have been as interesting,” said Rhonda. Annabelle was thinking about that, but not for long. They were approaching the place where the sharks had been, but Rhonda showed no sign of slowing down.